Practice Makes Perfect
by postitdempsey
Summary: A continuation of the ending MerDer scene in 6X19; Sympathy For The Parents


_A continuation of episode 6x19; Sympathy for the Parents_

 _Babies._ Derek Christopher Shepherd was interested in making _babies_ with Meredith Grey. The single thought made Meredith's head spin like a never ending ride at the carnival. Relief washes her over like a wave when he announces they stick to _practicing_ for now, though deep in the pit of her gut she's sure of the fact pushing it off doesn't make it disappear.

Derek's body drapes Meredith's torso like a blanket, eclipsing the view of her own figure. His fingers maneuver their way into the luscious honey-gold tresses sprouting from her scalp. They splay across the neutral pillowcase, cascading across the linen sheets artistically, though neither seem to notice. A grin dares to unravel when the feeling of Derek's pillow soft lips brush creases of her neck. She squawks something throaty and heaved, the sounds spilling from Meredith's mouth foreign to anyone other than her lover. In fact, they sound closer to cries of agony than pleasure, but she's the farthest from pain that any living creature could be.

"Beautiful." A hushed moan coincides with Derek's latest convulsion. His hot breath swirls with a hint of mint, dusting the flesh of Meredith's neck. He's told her numerous amounts of times how beautiful he thought she was, though Meredith seems to never grow tired of hearing the word spill from his lips. Her fingers lazily find the mound of raven curls attached to his scalp, massaging the skin beneath with the tips of her fingernails.

His tongue sweeps across her ear lobe, Meredith involuntarily jerking her frame from the sudden contact. Her pelvis grinds against her lovers navel, she can feel the nectar pooling in the fabric of her underwear as heat builds in her core. The thoughts of children and pregnancy rid themselves from her mind, new notions of lust swarming her brain and filling in the empty gaps. "Derek." The word releases from between her lips as a cry of _need._ She feels helpless and somewhat desperate as her husband teases the ever living _hell_ out of her.

Derek's rigid thumb pad brushes the bare flesh of her taut belly, fingers sweeping under the cotton of her t-shirt. _God she wants him._ Correction, _she needs him._ Her ache throbs, Meredith wishes for nothing more than the feeling of connectivity, to be made whole by the man she'd so helplessly fallen in love with. Sloppily, he's tugging the shirt off her torso. Cold air chills naked skin, goosebumps decorate every inch of her porcelain skin. She hadn't been wearing a bra, though needless to say, Meredith feels relief and joy at that small fact once Derek's thumb begins to fidget around her rosy nipples like a joystick on a game controller.

Whimpers fill the silent air, tiny pleads of desire communicated through various distressful sounds rather than coherent words. In truth, they've never truly been able to convulse full fledged conversations as well as they've managed to communicate through physical acts of love and lust. Talking is fine, _good_ in fact. Though, the message connecting as one soul, one body, one mind, is so much more powerful than any _words_ could possibly describe.

Meredith's fingers massage his cranium, his tongue finds comfort in the dip of her collarbone. _Flick, flick,_ his tongue rhythmically _flicks_ across the flesh of her exposed clavicle. He'd mentioned a few times before how he relished the exquisite taste of her skin. At first, the whole 'tongue on body' thing wasn't appealing to her. She didn't _get_ the notion behind it all and frankly, it made her uneasy with his mouth suctioning every piece of her frame like a plunger in a toilet. As time grew, she became accustomed and somewhat _fond_ of his tongue sliding down her skin like a slip n' slide.

Her hips continue to jerk upward, trying to signal she's _horny_ and _tired_ of waiting for ninth base. She's never been one one for team foreplay, though Derek is most certainly captain. "Stop." He mumbles, enveloping his lips around a rock hard bud. Meredith gasps, her chest heaving upward as his tongue and lips work their magic on her bosom. Suddenly waves of remembrance rush in her mind, she suddenly _remembers_ why she's accepting of the foreplay now. His tongue brushes back and forth slowly, his teeth nipping at her sensitive peak. She feels his fingers toying with her left breasts twin, kneading her puckered nipple.

"You're wearing too many clothes..." Derek's mumble vibrates across her skin. She wants to snort, if anything _he_ was the one wearing far too many clothes. She can't find the urge to differ on the subject though, in fact her mind is so far from arguing with him that it might as well be in Narnia. His thumb and forefinger latch at the hem of her yoga pants, bringing the fabric down her smooth and long legs, throwing her trousers in a careless heap by the foot of their bed.

Meredith sure a wet spot as accumulated against the center of her undergarments. She can feel the blush dusting her chest and cheeks, knowing her husband is taking a glance or two. "God." Derek whispers, trailing peppered kisses down the front of Meredith's belly. His tongue makes a pit stop at her navel, licking and suctioning around the small innie centered near her waist. He lifts his head, connecting gazes with Meredith. _Blue on green._ Her heart flutters, he's giving her the _look. His look._ "What did I do to deserve you?" His gaze reminds her of the one he'd given her only a few days ago, when admiring 'how pretty she was.' It was times such as this one Meredith had never been happier to call Derek her _everything._ Cristina may have been her person, though that doesn't deny the fact Derek has grown to be her full fledged _best friend._ He was her partner, her lover, her _everything._

She lays back her head, becoming exposed to the fullest as her panties become another victim of Derek's finger assault. His finger runs along her slit, her hips buck, suddenly she's lost all of her sensory control. She grabs at nothing, her fingers bunching a pile of air as another finger added into the mix of his teasing games. "Der..." Meredith whines, his fingertips circling around her clit, tugging, separating, exposing her _womanhood_ to the fullest.

A smile tugs at Meredith's lips, she feels euphoric and the entirety of their love making hadn't even begun. "More." She pleads to him. He complies with her wishes, pumping in a finger, his thumb continuing to press at her clit like a push button. "Ah." She lets out a squeal, informing her lover he was doing all the right things in all the right places. She doesn't think it could possibly get better than this, until his tongue replaces the fingers working the magic on her.

She gasps at the sudden change on contact. His cavern grows to an 'O' eclipsing her clit, sucking _\- drinking her in._ The heady scent of her arousal fills the room, blanketing the lingering fragrance of her lavender conditioner from the shower she'd taken minutes before climbing into bed with her husband. _She'll most likely need another shower after this._ Yet porny thoughts swirl her brain and she contemplates whether or not he'd be interested in a little bit of _conserving water_ with her. He French kisses her second set of lips, continuing to thrust his fore and middle finger in the mix of it all. His head sits steadily between her thighs, her feet ripping his broad shoulders.

Heat coils at the pit of her stomach, _she's close and she's sure he knows it._ Her release is a car at the hill of a rollercoaster, teetering at the tip top, wondering whether to fall backward or move forward in full force. The latter wins, and suddenly her hips are bucking and her screams fill the room. She's sure her roommates are well aware she's having sex with Derek, but she doesn't care. She feels it's the price they have to pay for living in a house with a somewhat newly wedded couple. Listening to the cries and pleads of pleasure Meredith releases as her husband makes love to her is something they'd have to get used to.

Her body is limp, a pile of sluggish jello laying lifelessly on he mattress. A small layer of dew covers her from head to toe, _that was a good one._ "Fuck." Meredith whispers, the feeling of Derek's lips on her neck becoming present. Her head turns and they lock lips, the taste of her nectar still prominent on Derek's lips and tongue.

Her hands absentmindedly pull his grey shirt from his torso, her fingers working their way down into the front of his boxers. "Mere." Derek heaves, her fingers cupping and teasing him gently. He's fully erect and she's never been more ready than she had been now for his rod to fulfill her insatiable need. _To complete her._ He hovers, his fingers brushing the loose strands of her honey-gold locks from her face. He gives her a smile, pressing his lips to hers again.

"Mm." Meredith murmurs against his mouth, her hand cupping his cheeks, her legs circling his waist. "Make love to me, Derek." She whispers, and he does just that. In one swift motion, his plaid boxers slide down his legs, joining the pile of clothes scattered on the hardwood floor. His hand cups her slowly and she copies his actions, almost as if they were each resting the readiness of one another. As assumed, they were _always_ ready for another. His erection fills Meredith like a lock in a keyhole, _a perfect fit._

Meredith gasps, this one the loudest of all she'd whimpered that night. She'd had more than a handful of sexual partners in her life, though none of them seem to nearly compare to the pleasure Derek has provided her. She wonders if everything feels _so much better_ because she's actually _in love with him._ As strange and odd as it may sound, he truly was her first love. The first person she'd ever felt such a way about before. All those flings she'd had in the past couldn't compare to the way her heart throbbed for him and no one ever would. She's lucky to have found him, to have someone that _got_ her in a way she herself didn't understand. He was her better half, the person that turned her from ordinary to extraordinary.

 _Extraordinary together, rather than ordinary apart._

Her toes brush his hips as he pounds her like a butcher to meat. Their chests lie flush to one another as they move up and down together consecutively. Meredith's hips rise to meet his thrusts, _in, out, in, out._ The feeling is inexplicable, and she's sure she'd never be able to explain the way Derek makes her feel. His lips dust her jawline, planting several soft and gentle kisses to her skin. "So... good..." Derek grunts against her neck, moving his hand along Meredith's body to find her hand. Their fingers intwine like a weaved basket. Derek brings their locked hands above Meredith's head, squeezing her palm while she clamped around his length.

Everything is a blurry haze, the best kind of blurry haze that is. She feels drunk or high, though it doesn't matter. The physical act of making love with Derek was far better than any alcoholic beverage or drug she could consume. "I-I'm." She doesn't think she can even finish her sentence, the pleasure some kind of aphasia she's gladly to have. She squeezes him like a vice, clenching and unclenching slowly. She knows she's on a one way ticket to climax and she's certain he isn't far behind.

Before she can process what's happening, she's coming undone in the blink of an eye. Her second release of the night is much stronger and far more powerful than the first, though none of the orgasms Derek had given her had ever been _bad._ Meredith shakes, twitches, jerks her body, _up, down, left, right._ It's a euphoric, beautiful feeling. The fact only Derek can make her feel such a way is he icing on top of her sultry cake.

Her suspicions are confirmed once she feels Derek releasing within the depths of her core. The feeling is still _exotic_ as they hadn't stopped using condoms until recently. Her back meets the crumpled sheets, Derek's cheek finding a temporary home on the valley between Meredith's breasts. "Good lord." Derek mumbles, planting a small kiss to the side of Meredith's right bosom. Her fingers stroke his sweaty hair, her foot rubbing his calve.

"We can practice making babies, whenever you want." Meredith divulges. Derek snorts, lifting his body from hers, releasing his flaccid cock from her tired and pulsing vagina. He rolls to his side, running his hands up and down his face. Meredith sighs at the sudden loss of contact, though she's sure there will be plenty more through the course of the night.

"I'm scared to be a mother." Meredith whispers. "I don't think I could be a good mother to a kid. A child wouldn't want me, Derek."

She hears him sigh, though it doesn't sound a disappointed one. "Mere." He begins, taking her hand in his. "You would be a **great** mother whether you want to believe it or not. You're nothing like Ellis Grey. You take in _strays_ for crying out loud!" He chuckles and the sound ambrosia for Meredith's ears. _She loves his laugh._

"You think so?" She watches his thumb stroke the velvet of her skin.

He smiles, shifting closer to her body. "I know so. The fact you're already worrying about it means you would be a good mother, in fact a **great** mother."

"Thank you." Her nerves feel calmed, somewhat. Relief washes over her though as she realizes he's surely in no hurry to get Meredith pregnant any time soon, he merely, was only addressing the subject and that brings her peace of mind. "So." She starts, crawling over to him, straddling his lap. She feels his cock stir with life beneath her warmth. Her own arousal growing with heat. "I could use another shower after that workout... wanna join me?" He doesn't respond, instead he's swooping her body off the bed and carrying her off to the master bathroom. Her giggle echoes through the bedroom and lingers in the hall, the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut becoming prominent.

Perhaps this practicing making the baby thing won't be as bad as she assumed.


End file.
